Directing came to you late in life; you used to do something different…
I should have been born ten years later, really; I was born when girls became nurses and got married. All I wanted to do was to get married and have children. So I did that. But I was always interested in the theatre. We only lived in a little town in Somerset but we had a super repertory company there. My mother introduced me to ballet.
What was your first opera?
My very first memory from opera comes from the television. It was black and white, Music For You, with Eric Robinson. They had popular music, ballet music, an opera singer, some good names, although it didn’t mean much to me then, as I was only about 13 or 14. One night on that I heard “Holy Angels Bright”, from the last act of Faust. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard, so I made a mental note of it.
Four months later the whole of Faust was broadcast on the radio, so I went to listen to it in my bedroom, in bed, not knowing when the “Holy Angels Bright” came. So I lay there, and lay there, and listened, and inevitably I drifted off to sleep. I woke up about ten o’clock terrified that I’d missed it, but it was still on and because the piece comes at the end of Act Five, I heard it! That was my first opera: I fell asleep in the middle…
Then it was light classical music. A lot of those programmes on television, although people complain about them as dumbing down, hook people onto it. “Nessun dorma” or The Pearl Fishers are a great example.
With The Pearl Fishers we sold more tickets than in the previous ten productions, apart from La Boheme. I’m sure that at least ten percent of these people were coming to opera for the first time, to hear the duet because they know it and they love it. In fact, I was expecting a mass exodus at the end of it, when they’d heard it. During rehearsals I kept asking if we could move it to the end, so they would stay… (she laughs). But they heard the duet and they stayed. That’s why I am all for such TV programmes.
And what was your first whole opera?
The first opera I actually went to see was Carmen. I thought that was wonderful. Then I went to see The Marriage of Figaro when I was eight months pregnant. My son started kicking on the first bit of the overture and kept kicking all the way through. I came out absolutely exhausted! But he did stay in time…
When did you start directing opera?
I remarried; my husband is very into opera. I’ve always been interested in musicals. I appeared in musicals and that’s when I started thinking about directing. When you go to rehearsals, you find those that are sitting outside talking and having cups of coffee, the ones that are reading a book and knitting, and the ones that are sitting and watching. I sat and watched what was going on. In a scene on a train in Annie’s Got Her Gun a guard was supposed to come down to the sleeper carriage. A couple of minutes later he had to reappear. I noticed he couldn’t reappear from the same side because he hadn’t gone back across. It’s a train! You can't do it! I told that to the director but she said it didn’t matter. In such situations you start thinking how you would do it if you had a chance.
I went to see my then fiancée perform in a university production in Aberystwyth. I thought it was musically superb but felt I could have directed it better. Six months later I was reminded of my words and offered to do it, never having done it in my life. It sounds very pretentious, but you’ve got to have a natural talent for it. Then it just grew from there and I was asked to direct The Pirates of Penzance and then The Marriage of Figaro.
This would mean you got your formal training later on.
When my husband graduated, he told me it was my turn. I was 43 and I applied to do drama at university. It was very interesting. I really enjoyed it and I got a lot out of it - I think you do when you go as a mature student. You’re there because you really want to be, not because everyone expects you to go to university. (It’s also interesting from the lecturer’s point of view because they get people who might argue with them.) What I wanted to know was the history of it all; if I was breaking the rules, I wanted to be aware of it.
But in the final year I started doing everything according to the book and found that I was restricting my own imagination. Everything was controlled. Technically, it was all being done accurately but I was losing my flare, I was simply passing the exams. I knew I had to shake it off very quickly. I’m not blaming the university; we had some very good lecturers there.
What ideas are you still applying?
One of the lecturers, a director and an actress, told me to hang on to the thoughts that come just before going off to sleep and just before you wake up in the morning. If anything comes to you then, it is right. You can put everything on it. It is true. Things just spring into your mind when you’re in that relaxed state. It’s a combination of everything you’ve seen, heard, imagined or wanted to do.
When directing, do you get involved in stage and costume design?
Yes, I’m one of the hands-on people. I love the creativity of it. I always swear it’s because I’m a woman that I have more to do with the costumes than any male director would… When we did The Marriage of Figaro, I actually painted the stage in big flagstones, although I had no idea what it would look like from the back of the theatre. But it looked lovely. I just get totally involved.
If you are not in a big professional theatre where there is a lot of money, everything is on a very tight budget. You have to really work at it, use your imagination - and really tell your story. You are not distracted by the wonderful, big, scenic designs that you get in big theatres.
I think a perfect example is Miss Saigon, when the Americans are shipping out of Vietnam. They’re leaving behind their girlfriends, wives, children. They’re all frantically kept outside this big, wire mesh fence when this helicopter comes flying in, picking them up and going off. Everybody stares at the helicopter, but to me the important part in that scene was the Vietnamese standing there, screaming desperately. You didn’t notice them - probably only ten percent of the audience did - because you were watching this wonderful helicopter coming in. To me, the very important part of the story was the fact that everything that had been promised is being taken away from them. They are terrified. I think it’s so easy to distract from the main line of the story in a theatre where there is a lot of money. On a very low budget, you have to tell the story. If you don’t tell it, people will start leaving as nothing is holding them there.
You are now mainly involved with Kennet Opera.
Yes, we moved to Newbury and I started directing there. We’ve just done the 11th yearly performance.
Do you have your favourite opera composers?
I must admit, I have a very, very soft spot for Mozart. The Marriage of Figaro was the first opera I did - and I love it. I put my heart and soul in that. Part of me stays with it still. It’s gorgeous and very exciting to watch. Then Don Giovanni, though I didn’t like it when I first heard it. Yes, probably Mozart’s my favourite. But then we get to Puccini and Verdi who just sweep you away. If I want to wallow and weep in the nicest possible way I go for the Puccinis and the Verdis. I also love Carmen. The Pearl Fishers – I love the music but what a rubbish story! Thank God I had Alex who is such a sensitive and intuitive actor. He is not frightened of being still.
...being still? I thought it was movement that mattered to directors.
So many people are afraid of being still! They all feel they’ve got to move. If you mean what you’re singing, you can hold anybody. Alex sang the whole romance on one knee, completely still, and you didn’t want him to move. I think stillness is a great quality. Few singers have it. Most are frightened of it, thinking they will bore people if they are still. If you’re convincing, if you mean it, it can be seen on your face and heard in your voice. You don’t need to dance and move about. Of course, that depends on the part: if you are doing Carmen, you won’t be standing still very often. But if you are the Countess, I don’t want you to move in your arias. Dido doesn’t move, either. Things happen around her.
If you use movement and stillness, you can contrast between your private and public face, like Traviata. She moves around at her party, but I would want absolute stillness when everyone is gone. It’s a wonderful contrast.
How do you work on an opera?
Opera to me is a total experience; it’s not just the music. I always like to make sure that there is something interesting or attractive on the stage as well. My productions make good photos. When I was young, I was quite a good photographer; now, I create pictures on stage. I love levels, so I got my chorus trained to find their own levels and they all make sure that they’re not on the same level as the next person. They are not always dressed beautifully, sometimes it’s very plain, but I think it’s important to find something to watch.
|
Do you also design the costumes?
In a way, yes. I know what I want with the costumes. For The Pearl Fishers I went to India in the summer and saw how amazing the clothes look despite the overwhelming poverty. I chose all blues and greens and purples, the colours of the sea. When we did La Traviata, I set it in the thirties and Flora’s was a casino room in a night cub.
Last year, we did L’elisir d’amore for Kennet Opera’s tenth anniversary. If I had told the chorus to get their peasant costumes, they wouldn’t have been too excited to do it, so I set it in a coffee bar, in an Italian piazza, in the late 1950s. In the opera, they believe in everything magical. I put it in a small village, where every week everyone goes down to the village hall to watch a film. Everyone lived under the spell of Hollywood in the late 1950s, the glamour and the magic. I had some Italian posters of Some Like It Hot and of Marlene Dietrich films. Instead of reading the story out of the book, Adina read out of the latest film magazine. And it worked! I even had the chorus hand-jiving, wearing ponytails. There were fairy lights around the café. It was such a party!
Now I see how you have such good audiences who don’t leave after the famous duet…
It’s very important to create a real show. I may sound arrogant but that's what I do.
What is it like to be a female director in an age when there shouldn’t be any male chauvinism left?
Directing is a sex-related experience; I direct men and women differently. Also, every time I see Don Giovanni, I can tell if it has been directed by a man or a woman. The women in it are treated very badly if it is a woman director. Men are all sorry for the women, they all think the women have been misused. The women treat it in a get-on-with-it way. It’s happened over and over again! Go and watch it, try my theory out. Women are much crueller to the other women. But I don’t think there is a lot of chauvinism.
How do you choose your performers?
It is very important to have a rapport with the musical director. When we audition, I usually bow to the musical director because obviously, whoever it is, they have to be able to sing. If I get a choice of two or three, I go for the best actor. However, there are some roles where I feel the director has a bigger say than the musical director, like in Sweeney Todd, which we are going to do next. It is arguable if Sweeney Todd is an opera, but it has been seen at the ROH, ENO and Scottish Opera recently. I would want quite a say in that because the roles aren’t going to work it they are just sung. While, for example, Don Ottavio – well, really, let him just sing.
I have been spoiled by my husband, Stephen, who is an excellent actor and a very good singer, so I know it can be done. I am not asking the impossible. I always ask my chorus not to act. Just be there, listen and react. When we did The Masked Ball, in the first act they were so good when the king was dying, they were all around him, just focusing and listening. They reacted wonderfully. You couldn’t have had a better chorus, acting-wise, in any opera house.
Are the chorus local?
Yes, some of them have been in it for years. I do have to face the dreaded amateur thing that the only time I have the full cast is at the dress rehearsal, people get sent abroad and all over the country for their work, they don’t finish at 5.30 pm, they have to stay at work. It can be very frustrating and the director has to live with it. But they are an excellent chorus; they are lovely.
As I work a lot with amateurs and it is their hobby, I want to make sure that they enjoy themselves. But they all know that they have to be very disciplined because I won’t accept anything less than their best, I don’t like sloppy work, and they are much happier on stage if they know what they are doing and where they are.
We have a lot of laughs. I want it to be fun, but the bottom line is that we’re asking people to pay good money to see us. I know the chorus are capable of giving their best. I want everybody to get as much enjoyment and satisfaction out of it as I do. At the same time my standards are high and I expect people to live up to them. Sounds very bossy, but then directors are.
You have to believe that what you’re doing is right, otherwise you have no business to be there. You have to convince everybody, and through them, convince the audience. If it’s a lousy show, the audience won’t say the people in it were not very good. They’ll say they didn’t like it and it was the director’s fault. I should be able to get blood from a stone – and have had to, on several occasions (she laughs).
What would you say to people who hate opera?
I feel very strongly that opera is for everybody – it’s just got to be accessible. I don’t like it dumbed down but I do feel it’s for anybody. A lot of people who say they hate opera have never seen one. I ask them to name ten adverts they like – and eight of them will have opera music in them. It’s just about getting over that elitist barrier, which unfortunately is still there. They say it’s fat ladies dying of TB, but that’s clearly not true anymore. I disagree with those who say they want to see Pavarotti in a production. I wouldn’t. I would go and see him in concert but I would never want to go and see him in a production because to me he is not believable.
What would you change in the world of opera if you had a chance?
I wish I could change how much it costs, so more people would go and see it. That’s really what I would want to do. I think opera is such a wonderful experience. You come out of opera feeling you’re walking above the ground because it just lifts you up. You’ve got the music, the spectacle, the acting. All your senses are fired. And it costs £100 to see it.
It’s a wonderful idea to be able to see opera in the piazza in Covent Garden, a live broadcast from the opera house. You cannot beat the dangerous quality you get in the house, the danger of every live performance.
What do you make of the recent phenomena, Il Divo and Amici Forever?
It’s very difficult, because some of them are lovely and they might introduce a wider audience to opera, which would have value. But then, when you turn on Classic FM where everybody says how wonderful Russel Watson is, then, well, sorry…
Have you seen any of the big opera stars in action?
I was lucky enough to be at the Cardiff Singer of the World the year with Bryn Terfel and Dmitri Hvorostovsky in it. We went every single night. Dmitri was the last contestant on the Thursday night. He walked on the stage – and I said, ‘He’s won’. That’s before he opened his mouth. Talk about presence! He came on as the winner. Then, of course, when he opened his mouth, he was very exciting too.
But now, ten years on, I am much more of a Bryn Terfel fan. I admire him tremendously because of his ability to be normal. If anyone is going to get non-believers to opera, it’s him. He's magic. He sings simple songs in such a special way, that big man. It lifts the hairs on the back of your neck. And he’s got very good balance with his wife and children, which I think is very important.
I also love listening to Kiri, Renee Fleming, Cecilia Bartoli, Thomas Hampson. Bryn is trying to get the three baritiones together, with Hvorostovsky and Hampson. I would go through fire to go and listen to those three! They are wonderful; they’re all good actors.
What are your plans and dreams?
My dream would be to go back and start again, because sometimes I think I am quite old to do all that. I’d like to go on directing, more people, more opportunities. I enjoy it so much. You can also direct from the wheelchair and just sit there – except that I’m one of the directors who gets up and demonstrates (she laughs).
I keep busy with other productions. I’d like to audition for Mrs Lovett, with the permission of the company. If I get it, they will have to decide if I can direct it as well.
The first MD that I worked with for Kennet Opera was Barbara Spooner, ex-ENO. I was working with her for a few weeks and suddenly she said, ‘Oh, yes, we did that with Peter Hall’. It gives you a little bit of a quiver. One day she said, ‘You know, when you’re directing you remind me very much of Jonathan Miller.’ I thought, ‘Oh, how wonderful!!’ ‘He talks a lot, too.’ So that is my claim to fame.
And your hobbies?
I don't stray far from the theatre; I do acting. I'm involved in a theatre club, with a yearly membership, where we get the money at the beginning of the year, so we’re not obliged to do the Agatha Christies and the same old pot-boilers. We can stretch ourselves, which is the important thing. We get eight or nine performances in two weeks and this way there is enough time to start playing with it, to examine yourself.
I also belong to a Murder Mystery company. That’s absolutely wonderful. You go out with no rehearsal, improvise, get wined and dined, and everyone thinks you are lovely at the end. That’s instant gratification (she laughs). And I’ve got two West Highland terriers which take up the rest of my time. I also read a lot. I’m not too keen on cooking but I love preparing Christmas dinners. And I have a tremendous zest for life.
View Janet's page HERE.
See our review of The Pearl Fishers HERE.
|
